Mister Jane Doe & Missus Mary Jane
by GRDaluiseau
Summary: TF2 one-shot (most likely), in response to several crappy "teenage female OC in TF2" fanfics. A common teenage girl with her head always in the clouds meets up with the RED Soldier a few miles from Mann Co's base. She thinks she'll be the new life of the team, but the American has an ambition to not only bring her back down to earth, but to also save her from war's blackness.
1. Chapter 1

It was a gray and cloudy afternoon in Badwater Basin's outskirts, and near a large jagged rocky spire stood the Soldier, inhaling a deep breath of the surprisingly cool air around him. Weather like this only came once or twice a year in the desert battlefields of Mann Co., but it hardly mattered to the war enthusiast. The only things that he cared about were getting his missions carried out and keep the Administrator off his back. However, this day would bring a change in both tasks he strove to complete.

A young girl, about 18 or 19 years of age, had arrived at a dingy bus stop a couple hundred feet from the outskirts. She had semi-long brunette hair, clear complexion, a pink silk shirt with sleeves up to her elbows, and white shorts with a good number of pockets stitched on. Her name was Jennie, aka "Mary Jane", as that was what many had called her back at school. Tired of being treated like a damsel in distress, she wanted to escape to her ultimate fantasy land; the Mann Co. headquarters. Every night for the past 3 years, Jennie would strap herself in for a vicious night of noob-owning and weapon-collecting in the game where Mann Co. existed, Team Fortress 2. She had no idea that the company actually existed until she received notice from a news report a week ago.

As the bus left the stop, about to traverse another 100-mile lone stretch of gritty asphalt, the girl proceeded forward, anxious and excited to see her favorite mercenaries, in the flesh. Soldier tilted the lid of his helmet up and saw the delusional girl. He immediately assumed it was an unwanted solicitor, and remembered just how much the Administrator lectures on her burning hatred of them if one was ever seen on company ground. To spare him and his fellow teammates a throbbing migraine, he bolted forward, focused straight on stopping Jennie.

"Ah... here it is! I can't _wait_ to go in and get employed!" She squealed as a large, ominous building with the Mann. Co banner, entered her vision. She was caught up in her trance so much, she didn't even hear the Soldier's heavy footsteps and panting as he neared. "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! I wonder what weapons I'll-" Jennie thought, before a loud commanding yell elicited from the American rocket-hopper, catching her attention.

"You. Stop right where you are, that is an order! Do you have any idea where you are, you worthless-" Soldier started, but was quickly interrupted by the bratty teenager, "You! You're the Soldier! I hate you in TF2! You always call people 'maggots'!" The man scoffed and retorted, "Tell me something I don't know. _Listen_, Sheila. This ground is forbidden for your kind to walk upon! Turn your sorry self the other direction, and _move_ like the ground can't support you!"

Jennie flinched at his words. She couldn't help being yelled at, despite it happening to her so many times in the past from friend and foe. Clenching her fists, she maintained her posture, and shot back into the confined space of the war pig. "Why? Is it because I'm a **girl**? Well, I'll tell you something, buster; I came here to fight for this organization, and I'll do whatever it takes to make the Administrator proud! So you can call me 'maggot' all you want, but I _won't_ go down easy!" The words rang shrilly against Soldier's eardrums, and triggered a flashback to his unwanted services in World War II.

It was a scorching night in the American war base, and Soldier laid down atop a pile of old and beaten uniforms to rest for a few hours, staring up at a star-less sky. He had finally gotten a rare moment of peace to himself, but the silence was soon broken by a young colleague of his, known as 'Private Skippy'.

"Hey Jane!" He yelled. "How can you sleep when we have so much time to train for what's to come! Get off your back and join me!" A few surrounding comrades had either yelled or shushed him, while Soldier didn't even dignify the young man's words with a response. He hoped for silence to immediately follow suit, but hoping only did so much, as Skippy got down on his knees near the war pig's impromptu mattress. "Jane? Come on! You're more fun during the day!"

Those words disgusted Soldier ever so. After hearing that, he had no choice but to respond now. "Do you seriously think this whole thing is a _game_, Skippy?! This is war! We don't treat an international enemy like a damn baseball team! Young people like you are disgraces to the fabric that is the American uniform, and you want to know why?" The young private cowered back, covered in the slight darkness of Soldier's defiant stance.

"W-why...?" He shakily answered.

"It's because people like you represent everything that's wrong in our country! People like you make enemy forces laugh at us, and that gives them more a reason to attack our land! If I were in charge of this war, I would have you _discharged_ in a mere heartbeat!" The rocket-man fired back as his eyes became bloodshot, and his hands trembling in fury. Skippy was scared and speechless. He had no idea what to do or say next, but his body decided for him a short time afterwards, for he ran off with his hands burying his tear-covered face, blubbering like a baby.

That moment was the last time Soldier ever saw the young man during the war. 4 years later, after his realization of the war ending, he stopped by a cemetery near Galena Base dedicated to those who fell in the war, and in the front row, he saw Skippy's gravestone. The date of his death was unsurprisingly, the day after he ran away from Soldier, presumably getting killed by stepping on a landmine. The bald man slowly inhaled and exhaled, muttering quietly, "At least you're in a place where everything's a game now, Skippy..."

"Hey! Are you hearing me?! Or is that helmet blocking your hearing?!" Jennie continued to yell as Soldier was slowly coming back to the present time. Having been startled, the man grabbed tightly hold of the girl's shoulders, and pulled her straight into his face.

"Listen here, girl. I'm doing you a favor. This is _not_ a game, and you can't just waltz in at any time. How did you even get here, and how long did it take? This company is away from civilization for several reasons, and this is one of them. I had a friend back in the second World War just like you. And guess where he is now?! Sleeping with the goddamn fishes! As a Soldier, I _refuse_ to let any innocent bystander get harmed by war's treacherous grip, and you're no exception! So, turn around and for God's sake, _enjoy your life_! The battlefield is no place for fun, and _certainly_ no place for family! You'll die out here. You don't have the required experience to fight, and I could care less over what gender you are. Gender is no factor in a war. All that matters is that you can hold your own and strategize for victory. Considering who you are now, you'll _never_ have the basic essentials down, Mary Jane!" He extendedly ranted, then shoved Jennie away.

A horrified and blank expression washed over the girl's body. What she just went through was like her treatment back at school, multiplied by a million. And just like Soldier's former war buddy, she ran away, face covered up and loudly bawling. The American still stood in his position, breathing heavily through his nose and gritted teeth. "And by God, don't _ever_ come back..." he said to himself as he turned around to head back to the RED barracks.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**Well, that was a mouthful. But I'm serious here, this is what I feel about fanfics of these characters, involved in works like those of shadowburningforce and TheAwesomeGinger's. THEY ARE _NOT_ ORIGINAL, NOR INVESTING TO READ. Stop. Posting. Them. ~G.R. Daluiseau**


	2. Chapter 2

Jennie, having ran almost 10 miles from Mann Co. headquarters, was exhausted, and her throat felt drier than hell. She foolishly drank all the contents of her Gatorade before the bus who got her this far dropped her off, and was now left in a cold, dry desert plateau, slowly getting dark. Before she could stop and think, she tripped over a jagged rock and landed on an inconveniently-placed-by-nature cactus, likely brought there by heavy wind.

Jennie now had three problems: Possible dehydration, cactus pricks in her once-flawless skin, and an ankle injury. The girl was afraid to sleep, because she feared that sleeping would lead to death, or move, for fear of worsening her injuries. She laid there, in total peril and despair. While she remained immobile, she remembered Soldier's last words before she ran, and as much as she hated him, he had a point. A damn good one.

"M... maybe... I r-really am not ready for war... I-I'm sure he's taken in worse than this without a single complaint... and that's why I h-hate him..." She moaned, wincing at her realization. She wanted to cry more than ever now, but her body after being thrown into overdrive for ten miles, was now in no condition to do so. She wished that she stayed in her home, albeit the cruelty from many people, because fate and nature are, and always will be capable of being worse than any human. Jennie just wanted to be back home, to be with her family, to have fun with war in simulation, not reality.

The night hours passed, and sunrise had begun over the rocky desert plateau. A cell phone could be heard vibrating in Jennie's pocket, but she didn't pick up. She died from a combination of an anxiety attack and multiple bone fractures, mainly from lying on solid rock. With her death, Jennie selfishly abandoned and disrespected everyone close to her. Her parents, her brother, her grandparents, her friends, and especially Soldier; he was her last hope for a good life.

Back at the RED barracks at Mann Co. during ceasefire, the Soldier, looking out a cracked window, had considered Jennie destined for death as soon as she ran away, and wondered if he'd ever see her again. If he somehow managed to find her, the American vowed he would allow the late girl the privilege of a proper burial. He felt that just like Skippy before her, she should at least get another chance once she ascends into Heaven's gates.

With that, he slowly sank back into his bed, hoping for a better day in his midst, and a better afterlife for the girl he never knew.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**Wow. I wasn't expecting this part to be so damn sad, but really, this is what I see happening to those OC's I mentioned last chapter. I didn't want to kill Jennie off, believe me (because killing is cruel), but I needed to do this for the closure of the opening the last chapter left behind. Thank you for understanding. ~G.R. Daluiseau**


End file.
